


Can We Keep Him?

by icarus_chained



Category: CSI: NY, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 10:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarus_chained/pseuds/icarus_chained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stella Bonasera has a small army of mutant green hallucinations to do her bidding. Flack would've liked to know this <i>before</i> they pulled him out of an interrogation cell.</p><p>Crack crossover. Set early seasons CSI:NY, and probably fairly early TMNT (2003) too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can We Keep Him?

She could see by his face and by the oh-so-careful way he put the phone down that the news wasn't good. He didn't even need to say it. But he did anyway. 

"They've searched all known locations for the these guys," Mac said, softly, then looked at her. "There's no sign of Flack, Stella. But they found what look like interrogation cells down the warehouse." She flinched, barely, and had it under control inside a second, but he caught it. Mac always did. 

"We'll find him," she promised him, watching him shake his head a little, almost unconsciously. Not because he didn't believe her. They would find him, that much was sure. But Mac knew as well as any of them that by this stage ... they might not want to. 

"I know, Stella. I know." And he tried his best to look reassuring. 

"Mac." She reached forward, rested a hand on his arm, waiting until he met her eyes. "We'll find him." _One way or another, and I have more ways than one._ "We will." 

And maybe he saw something in her expression, some hint that she wasn't just saying it to comfort him, but he nodded. 

\--- 

"Mikey! Mikey, where are you!" Donnie knocked out two stragglers, too singed and dazed to even realise what hit them, but his focus was all on finding his brother. "Mikey, if you got caught in that after I _told_ you where to go ..." 

"Hey, don't get yer panties in a twist, bro!" Donnie spun towards the voice, vaulting over a heap of debris, and looked down at Mikey's soothing grin with relief. His brother waved up at him. "I'm fine, Donnie. Just had to pick up a friend." He looked down, and Don noticed for the first time the crumpled form in his arms. He stared. 

"Is that ...?" 

Mikey shrugged cheerfully. "No clue. But he was tied up, and banged up too, so I couldn't leave him, could I?" He grinned as Donnie hit the ground gracefully beside him, and immediately focused on the injured man. Then grin faded a little when Don peeled back some of the singed cloth to see the bruises. They both knew what those meant. 

"No," Donnie whispered. "You couldn't leave him." He looked up at his brother, smiling gently. "You did good, Mikey. Even if you should have known better than to leap _into_ an explosion." Mikey grinned at him, unrepentant. 

"Hey, all's well that ends well, right? Besides. It's what the Justice Force woulda done!" 

Donnie opened his mouth, but a groan beat him to it. They both looked down at the battered man in shock as he blinked blearily up at them. Man must have a hell of a hard head, to be awake already! 

"Hey," Flack whispered. "Can you ... hallucinations keep it ... down? I'm having ... a bad day." They stared, saying nothing, until he seemed to figure he'd gotten his point across, and slipped back into unconsciousness. Donnie looked at him, then up at Mikey, and blinked to see the beaming grin on his brother's face. 

"Hey Donnie?" Mikey grinned. "Think we can keep him?" 

\--- 

Flack woke up, slowly, carefully, and made very sure not to let anyone know about it. The last couple of days had not been fun, any time he opened his eyes, so seeing as no-one was kicking him awake he figured he'd just play possum a while longer, if nobody minded. Play possum, and keep two determined ears open. 

"We can't call Stella yet!" Someone was saying. Loudly. Pointedly. "We don't know who he is! He could be anybody! He could be a Foot plant!" 

"His badge number indicates he's the man we're looking for." A much calmer, more reasonable voice, this, and one Flack could swear he recognised. Where ... oh, right. One of the hallucinations that pulled him ... That was real? 

"Ever heard of fake ID, Brainiac?" Harsh voice. "Foot could manage it." 

"Yes, but I seriously doubt the Foot would beat one of their own like that." Calm voice again. "Whoever did that wanted something definite from him, and I doubt it was good acting skills." 

Flack winced, minutely. Yeah. They'd wanted something, alright. Not something he was prepared to give them, though. Cops don't sell other cops. Not to anyone. 

"The Foot would do anything to get what they want, Donnie, you know that." A third voice, cold as winter, with the kind of calm Mac got sometimes, when he was really, really pissed off. Someone Flack didn't think you wanted to piss off at all. "Their people mean no more to them than anyone else's." 

"I know!" And there was temper in the reasonable voice now. "But not him. Trust me, Leo. He's who we're looking for. He's Stella's friend." 

Stella? He'd heard the name before, but he hadn't quite caught on ... surely not Stell? Stella Bonasera? The woman was good, definitely, but Flack kinda doubted even she had armies of green hallucinations to do her bidding ... Then again. If anyone could have ... 

"Look, this is getting us nowhere!" Harsh voice again, not 'Leo' or 'Donnie'. "I say we wake him up and _ask_ him who he is! Sorts all our problems." And, oh, but that didn't sound like a nice, comfortable prospect for Flack, it really didn't. 

"I really don't think we should do that, guys." And this fourth voice was much lighter, more cheerful, and more familiar. This was the person who'd pulled him out of the cell before the bomb went off. Er. The hallucination, anyway. 

"Yeah, Mikey? And why's that?" Harsh-voice asked snidely. 

"Because. You do that, Raph, _you_ get to explain it to Stella when she finds out. And if it is her friend ..." Said so innocently and with such cheer, Flack immediately thought of Danny in a bad mood. Seems this Mikey had the same effect, too, because there was a sudden, thoughtful silence. Though that could just be the threat of Stella's wrath. If they were talking about Flack's Stella, then they definitely had cause to be wary. 

"Might I suggest an alternate course of action, my sons?" Quiet, amused voice, right in Flack's ear, and it took every last nerve he had not to jump in shock. He'd never felt anyone come near him. 

"Yes, sensei!" Four voices in tandem, eager to please. Sons? Kids? Flack's head hurt. 

"Perhaps if you were to call Ms Bonasera and ask _her_ to confirm her friend's identity? And in the meantime, our newly awakened friend can have something to eat. Would you like that, Detective Flack?" And whoever it was, they were amused as hell, in a very quiet, restrained way. 

Ah well. Might as well get with the joke. He opened his eyes, looking right up at the ... giant mutant rat ... and cracked his best grin. "Yeah. I could eat." 

\--- 

Where her cell phone rang, Stella almost hit the ceiling, her nerves were wound that tight. 48 hours, and no sign. If she was honest, she was near frantic. But she forced it down, pulled out her phone and calmed enough to look at the display. 

Only to find it blank. What? Oh. Other phone. That meant ... 

"Stella here. Have you found anything?" She crossed her fingers, praying that they had, and that it wasn't what she feared. For a second, there was silence on the other end of the line, and she almost snapped with impatience. "Donatello. Did you find anything?" 

"Yeah," came the quiet answer, and she almost dropped the phone as the voice registered, her knuckles whitening around the casing. "They found something, Stell." 

"Flack?" she whispered, not daring to hope. 

"Yeah. And Stella? Either I'm in the middle of the most detailed hallucination of my life, or you've been holding out on me." She heard the laugh in his voice. "If I'd known you had mutant minions to do your dirty work, I swear, I would never have insulted your caffeine habits!" 

Something eased in her chest, a solid lump she almost hadn't realised was there, and she could feel the tears and the smile on her face. "Yeah, Flack. I'm sure. Flack? I ..." 

His voice softened. "Yeah, Stell. I know." Silence for a second, as he waited for her to compose herself, as he smiled softly where she couldn't see. "Hey. I'm fine. Just a bit banged up, is all. And annoyed you didn't tell me the ninja turtles were real! I mean, come on, Bonasera! You couldn't have let a pal in on the secret?" 

She laughed, biting her lip. "Yeah, sorry, Flack. They're ... they're kinda secretive, you know?" 

" _Tell_ me about it. You know Raphael wanted to rough me up a bit, see if I was who I seemed to be?" 

There was an outraged squawk in the background, and she found herself laughing again, imagining all too easily Flack's innocent expression in the face of Raph's fury. Oh god! He was safe. He was really safe. 

"Stell? Stell? It's okay. I'm safe. I'm fine." She stopped, realising he was speaking again, speaking to her, but she couldn't stop the tears of sheer relief. "Hey. Stell. I really am fine. I promise. They've been looking after me and everything!" 

"I know you are," she whispered. "I know you are." She paused, got herself under control. "Hey, Don? Would you put Leo ... no, put Donatello on for me? I want to ask him a few things, see about ... about getting you home. Alright?" 

She could hear his grin. "No problem, Stell. One Brainiac, coming right up!" 

"Stella?" Donnie, sounding nervous. "It's him, right? You're not mad or anything? Raph never touched him, I promise ..." 

"Donnie!" She stopped him, gently. "Yes. It's him. And I'm not mad." She paused, shaking her head, wondering how she could possibly explain how not-mad she was. "Don ... thank you. All of you. I owe you guys ... so much." 

This time, it was Donatello she could hear smiling, his voice impossibly gentle. "No, Stella. You don't owe us a thing." And he gave her a minute, to let it sink in, let her gratitude shine. Then he was all business. "So. How do you want to get your boy home?" As soon as possible, and in one piece, those were her first thoughts, but she didn't voice them. 

She knew she didn't need to.


End file.
